


Games

by catvampcrazines



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Games, Humor, Long-Term Relationship, Pydia, Slice of Life, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1990524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catvampcrazines/pseuds/catvampcrazines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia’s been plotting a couple of games. Peter adds his own.</p><p>Prompt(s) (from whenwolfsbaneblooms aka KaelsMiscellany ) : board game hijinks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaelsMiscellany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/gifts).



> Long-Term Relationship!Pydia with their own home + mentions of their kid, though she’s never directly present. Smush together thoughts of domesticity, a kid from these two, and some prompts (and a hilarious mental image that I could not get out of my mind)-- and they merge into this. 
> 
> We all know Lydia’s not old enough to remember that piece of nostalgia, but I’m sure she stumbled upon it on the internet and immediately had her credit card out, craving the payoff she envisioned. FML, PETER HALE with little red stickers along his cheeks and etc because he sucks at this game, but won't give up because of his daughter. Lydia hadn't realized how he'd refuse to phone anyone the game called for, so... he looks pretty ridiculous. He's too distracted to say anything once he's playing it, but he probably should have wondered why Lydia would buy that for their daughter--and why their daughter would have wanted to play it. XD

(The game mentioned is Girl Talk: [x](http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/most-awesomely-ridiculous-girl-games-90s) )

~~~

 

"Lydia, do I look like the type to play board games?"

"You’re going to make an effort, Peter Hale," Lydia told him from across their bed, hoping her expression passed for tenacious and unrelenting versus conniving. "Your seven year old daughter wants to play the new version of Girl Talk and you’re going to indulge her." Lydia gave the top sheet a good toss up into the air, watching wrinkles disappear.

Peter caught its edge from the alternate side, the two of them swiftly bending down to tuck excess fabric underneath their mattress. Lydia created a fold at the top, Peter yanking each side to create a crisp line, a satisfied look on his face.

Lydia paused her agenda for their little ritual; no comforter to add since it was in the wash, Peter completed the practice with eyes that checked hers to see if she also approved of his work.

She didn’t really mind his obvious enjoyment of her distraction or the way his lips curved with a gloating pride. 

 _No, no, I DO mind. Get back to it, Lyd. Ignore the cute!_ "You know, you owe her. You had to go help Derek the last time she wanted to play."

Peter blenched, at once looking as if he felt guilty—but also tempted to run out of the house and down the block.

He’d never willingly abandon his daughter, of course. If he did run away, Peter would return ten minutes later, pretending as if he’d needed to work out a sleepy limb or some other crap but darling excuse. If someone kept on him, he’d apologize so expediently it’d typically diffuse any left over grievance. 

The man periodically needed to be allowed a quick freak out when he felt overwhelmed by how shockingly domesticated his life had become; then, he was fine. They were far from an ordinary life, in reality; they continued living in Beacon Hills, still separate species with occasionally differentiating views on how the town should be watched over.

Plenty of excitement remained to keep things just on the side of bizarre. Shortly after they’d had their daughter, concerns about safety and extra cautions came into play for all three of them. They’d gained a beautiful daughter that enjoyed PB & J and hogging her squirrelly but devoted father. 

Their daughter, who was capable of applying the manipulative talent she’d inherited from both parents, able to modulate it well enough without going overboard… who accepted chic shopping holiday bribes from her mom.

"It’s probably about dating—and my girl isn’t going to grow up to date  **anyone** ,” he assured. “She doesn’t need the practice,” he tried to reason, growing a little desperate when Lydia didn’t chime in. “Why”—here came the petrified puppy gaze—“why would you buy that for her?” he asked petulantly.

"Calm down—" Lydia instructed as she grinned and walked around to stroke his cheek "—and shut up, Peter." She gently grabbed his ears and pulled him down to kiss his furrowed brow, letting go to pat his shoulders in a strengthening gesture. "You’ll do great. You just need to find something you can pass off as jim-jams and buy that popcorn she likes from the store." 

Peter tried to employ his blatant flirting tactic in order to delay the torture to come, hands snagging her waist and keeping her close-bye. “You know, it’s not my fault I have to sleep naked. It gets… hot in that bed,” he murmured.

Lydia tilted her head back to properly hold his gaze (the one he absolutely employed to seduce and distract), arching a brow and choosing to bite. ”Stop. trying. to. put. this. off.” She poked him hard in the chest with the last word.

Peter grunted and narrowed his eyes at her, appreciating her aggressive manner. Often, proximity alone served as a tempting two-way pull between them.

Even with other things going on, they’d end up here. 

He pressed her tighter to him, her manicured fingernail digging in through his shirt. A quiet rumble vibrated against it. ”Fine, but you’ll have to play too, Lydia,” he insisted.

  _Play it cool._ "That wasn’t the deal."  _Don’t show any devious intent._

"There  **was**  no deal. You just started giving me orders,” Peter challenged before pausing, eyes boring into hers as he mused— “though I tend to be fine with that in the right circumstances.” He brought a hand up to poke at her chest, just once, dead center between her breasts.

He kept a finger right there and waited. 

Lydia let in a focused breath, her chest gradually rising as she wrapped her hand around that digit, nice and tight, saying nothing when Peter slowly let it drift downward to poke at her belly button.  _Be strong, Lydia. No ruining the fun because he’s giving in and you’re about to have amazing sex for the second time today—thankyoupost-schooldropoffsleep-inmorning”exercise.”_

"I’ll go," Lydia pretended to whinge, her voice slightly more raspy than usual, "but if she complains about wanting you to herself, I’m bowing out. And no schmoopy talk about the past of her parental units; we were hardly ever that cute in the beginning and you know how she feels about us getting sappy when it doesn’t involve her."

"Right. No schm—" Peter caught himself, rolling his eyes. "—I’m not saying that word." 

"Damn."

"None of  **that** _._ " Peter snagged her upper lip between his teeth, slowly letting it slip free, facilitating his segue. "Now, you can find your PG pajamas later. "

"You… are determined today." Lydia dragged the finger pressing at her belly button lower and, through the thin materials of her skirt and panties, crooked it between her legs. Even though he couldn’t possibly have been surprised, Lydia watched Peter’s eyes grow opaque, pupils blowing out.

He took a moment to soak in his own perversion before exploring, Lydia almost immediately using both hands to grab at the wrist and forearm wedged between their bodies when he did. She tried to find extra support through the onslaught, not sure she’d be able to avoid crumpling because of unsteady legs. He’d zeroed in on that sweet spot, nudging where she’d already gotten loads of attention today. 

Her gaze dropped to his chest as she gasped, tendons in his forearm shifting underneath her fingers as he continued mercilessly. She looked back up to find eyes that had cleared enough to pledge that this round would be a scrappy battle of wills…

She relished the new blanket of lust that fell on her, welcoming the game while she bit her lip to avoid making a ridiculous sound too soon.

"When aren’t either of us determined, darling?" Peter’s voice drifted in and out of her attention.  _Stupid. Sexy. Trick._  She cursed when a long stroke upwards had her twitching forward for more. “School isn’t out for a few hours. Might as well take advantage of our free time if it’s going to be a long evening.”  _Stupid confident wolf grin._

Lydia recovered enough to remove the hand grasping at his wrist. Deliberately firm, she cupped it over the erection taut in his jeans.

She watched him struggle and fail to avoid shoving into her touch. She couldn’t help herself. Lydia shoved her hand right back. “You do have a point.”

"Ha. Ha—" he cut himself off with a whimper when her hand drove against him again and again.

Lydia cried out as he thrust two fingers in deep in response. 

___

Peter easily fell into sleep after, still needing to recharge from getting up early, energy further drained by their indulgent activities.

Lydia tried not to grin as she sneaked away to finish the laundry, still afraid he’d sense her treachery. 

_I’m going to die when she sticks those little red “zit” stickers on your face and you **let**  her, playing the big sweetly-bemused pup._

Once outside of the bedroom and nearer to the washer and dryer, she felt safe enough to open the fridge and sneak out the rare celebratory cake pop that she’d hidden for herself.

She bit into it, gratified that her plan was still on track as she waited for the first load to dry. 

_There’ll be enough photographic evidence to blackmail you for the rest of your cheeky werewolf existence, Peter Hale._

_____

Much later, Peter stood by Lydia as she quickly gave the evening’s dishes a rinse. She felt errable enough to take charge of washing away most of the grime.

Peter, come morning, wouldn’t have to endure too much of a price for losing the game.

"That definitely wasn’t a new edition—that was from the 90’s!" he complained, suspicious and frowning as he peeled stickers off of his face. He appeared contented enough with the knowledge that his daughter was in bed, neither of his household family members able to stall him from removing the red dots any longer. **  
**

She goaded him with her best spoiled-shopaholic-princess persona, smiling innocuously and shrugging. “I  **may**  have bought it off of eBay.”

 _Yup._  Lydia watched him figure out that she’d been acting extra vivacious, beguiling to the point of deterring him from catching onto what she’d been putting together. ”Payback is going to be sweet,” he warned as she turned off the faucet and stepped back from the sink, quickly drying her hands on a nearby towel.

"Yeah, haven’t we both said  _that_ one before?” she teased lustily, wondering what his retaliation would be. “At least the only thing that kept her from being bored was the entertainment you provided.”

Lydia gave a shriek of laughter as Peter lunged at her, covering her own mouth the second he froze. When it was clear that their ruckus hadn’t brought their daughter out from her room, Lydia let her hand fall, laughing softly at him, eyes glittering.

He grinned ferociously and, snagging her by the upper arm to keep her from running, slowly pressed a small red sticker to the tip of her nose.

"Yahtzee."

Lydia barely had time to bury her unrestrained laughter into his shoulder. When that wasn’t good enough, she pressed her face to his chest. The longer she laughed, the weaker her legs got. 

Peter chuckled when her tears seeped through his shirt, his arms wrapping snuggly around her, revenge postponed for an impromptu hugging session.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find more of my Pydia fic/art/gifs over at [FYeahPydia](http://fyeahpydia.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
